To Melt a Heart of Ice
by Aemilia Rose
Summary: Why would anyone think that Meriadoc Brandybuck the Magnificent would not be able to melt the heart of a lass? How absurd! Well, with any lass other than Estella . . . On Hold NOT DISCONTINUED
1. Challenge

Yes, for all of you who remember my promise in His Elanor, here is the story you've been waiting for! I'm finally trying my hand at writing a Merry/Estella romance.  
  
I have actually had it done for a while, *ducks as people throw objects* but I wanted to wait until today to post the first chapter, because today is my birthday and I wanted to make it special. :0)  
  
As most of you probably already know, my version of Estella first made an appearance in my other story, His Elanor. She and Merry were there mostly for no other reason than to advance the plot. But I found that it was so much to write her and Merry together . . . it just called for a fic, it really did.  
  
Okay, okay. I'll shut up now. On with the story! Enjoy!  
  
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Giggling, the hobbit lass gingerly covered her mouth with one hand while daintily waving goodbye with the other. Lifting up the hem of her pink skirt, she trotted gracefully away down the lane that ran through the market, all the while fluttering her eyelashes. Right before she turned the corner around a cart of apples, she winked one of her blue eyes at the two hobbit lads bidding her goodbye. Then she was gone. 'Probably off fussing over her hair or whatever it is lasses do in their spare time.' One of the hobbit lads thought.  
  
The two lads continued walking down the market lane. They were indeed a sight, all arrayed in outlandish clothing and the sun glinted off their armor. They were quite a bit taller than anyone else, and carried themselves in such a way that it was near impossible for them to walk by and not draw stares. Stares that mostly came from the female gender, to which they threw many a charming smile.  
  
"So, Merry," Pippin, the younger of the two, asked pleasantly. "What did you think of that last one?"  
  
"Hmm," Merry considered this thoughtfully, while grabbing an apple off of a small wagon. He tossed the owner of the cart a coin and then took a large bite. After he swallowed, he answered firmly, "No, not my type. Too giggly."  
  
"Come on, Merry!" Pippin laughed. "She was awfully cute!"  
  
Releasing an exaggerated sigh, Merry shoved his friend playfully. "You just think that because you can't resist a lass who tosses you a wink."  
  
"You say that as if it's a bad thing."  
  
Merry, who was about to say something back, halted suddenly. Obliviously continuing his sauntering stride, it took Pippin many long moments to realize that his companion wasn't following. He then hastened back to Merry's side in an undignified stumble. He noticed that his friend's eyes were opened wide and were staring straight ahead, unblinkingly.  
  
"What's wrong?" Pippin inquired. When Merry did not answer, Pippin began waving his hand in front of the other's face. "Snap out of it Merry!"  
  
Quickly backing away from Pippin's hand, Merry's eyes blinked furiously. "Watch it Pip!" He said a bit angrily. "What are you trying to do, poke my eye out?"  
  
An amused smile appeared on Pippin's face. "If that's what it would have taken to pull you out of that daze you were just in. Goodness, you'd think you just saw a gorgeous lass or something."  
  
"I did." Merry said under his breath, grabbing Pippin's arm and pointing over near a small stand selling bread.  
  
Leaning over and arranging the bread on the stand was a hobbit lass of average height and who had very dark and very curly hair, so long it kept falling into her face and she kept frustratedly tucking it back behind her ears. Her face was pale, but her nose was painted with many tiny freckles. As she surveyed the display on the stand, she chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully.  
  
"Humph." Pippin snorted teasingly. "I've seen better."  
  
"Oh really?" Merry said lightly, raising an eyebrow. "I think you're just saying that because you don't think you could get her to talk to you."  
  
Merry grinned as Pippin bristled, "I could so get her to talk to me! I just don't see why I should bother!"  
  
"Oh, you could now?"  
  
Pippin's mouth was set in a firm line, as he nodded confidently. "Just watch!" With that, he spun on his heel, leaving Merry behind to watch from the behind the wagon of apples.  
  
As Pippin swaggered over to the stand, the lass looked up, obviously expecting to see a customer. When she saw the roguish smile on his face, she rolled her eyes and ignored him, going back to organizing the rows of bread. When Pippin reached the stand, he leaned against the edge, composing himself with the most dashing pose he knew.  
  
"Hello there," he nodded, conveying his greetings. "Nice day, isn't it?"  
  
The lass met his eyes, her expression indifferent. She spoke in a low irritable voice. "Please do not lean on the stand."  
  
Backing away slowly, Pippin mentally kicked himself for getting off to such a bad start. He could almost hear Merry laughing at him. "My apologies, Miss." He said quickly, looking for a way that he could salvage the situation. "May I inquire your name?"  
  
"I don't see why you would want to know." She muttered harshly. "Are you here to buy bread or not?"  
  
"Er . . . no." He stuttered, unnerved by the fierceness in her gaze. "Actually, I must say that your pretty face drew me over."  
  
"Don't try to flatter me." She waved her hand, obviously gesturing for him to get lost. "Now, please do me a favor. Say good day and go away."  
  
"Hey!" Pippin's face brightened. "That was very clever! You made your words rhyme!"  
  
"Yes, I do believe that was what I intended." Her voice dripped sarcasm.  
  
Pippin could see that he wasn't getting anywhere. Not that he wanted to. This lass was just too bad natured to get along with at all. He supposed that he was left with two choices: He could either admit defeat, and face humiliation in front of Merry, or he could keep trying and risk getting hit with the blow that the lass looked like she was ready to deal him any second.  
  
'Sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor,' Pippin decided.  
  
"Well," He stammered, beginning to back up slowly. "I have to be going. It was nice to meet you, Miss!" When she didn't answer, Pippin decided to press one more question. "Might you tell me your name?"  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "If I do, will you leave?"  
  
Pippin sighed. "Aye, I will."  
  
"Estella Bolger." She said bluntly, and then went back to the bread stand.  
  
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Merry was shaking with laughter when Pippin returned to the apple wagon. "That was incredible Pippin!" Merry chuckled. "I'm sure she is smitten with you now!"  
  
"Oh, hush Merry!" Pippin sulked, "You wouldn't believe how nasty she was! She wouldn't even tell me her name until I promised I would leave."  
  
"And what was her name?" Merry asked, curiously interested in finding out the answer.  
  
"Estella Bolger." Pippin nearly spat out.  
  
Merry rested his head on his hand thoughtfully. "Not a bad name," he pointed out.  
  
Pippin just shook his head. "Nice name to go along with a rotten hobbit."  
  
"Pip," Merry chastised gently. "She couldn't have been that bad."  
  
"So you think you could handle her better?"  
  
Merry rolled his eyes. "Now, I didn't say that . . ."  
  
"Ha!" Pippin said, his nearly ever-present smile reappearing. "I think you meant it though!" He looked over toward the bread stand, and to the mean-spirited lass who ran it. "You know Merry," Pippin said, his voice dropping to a lower volume. "We could make this interesting."  
  
"We could?"  
  
"Aye," Pippin chuckled. "You know the Yule celebration in a few weeks?"  
  
"Yes," Merry said, "Of course I know about it, Pip. What are you getting at?"  
  
Pippin grinned. "I would like to see you try to get Estella to go with you to the Yule celebration."  
  
Merry's raised his eyebrows at the challenge. Did Pippin really think that he was losing his touch? Meriadoc Brandybuck the Magnificent, not being able to melt the heart of a lass? How absurd. This would be easy.  
  
"Okay," Merry said confidently. "You're on."  
  
TBC 


	2. Connections

*Hugs all the reviewers* I am SO sorry for taking so long to update! First of all, you can blame it on my teachers, and on TTTEE (which I have already watched three times). Also, the chapters in this story I have noticed are tending to be a lot longer than any chapters in my previous stories, so naturally they take longer to write. I'm really sorry. I'll try to update more quickly.  
  
First of all, thank you everyone for the Happy birthdays! You all made my day really special! *hugs*  
  
Loveofthering: *hugs* Congratulations on being my first reviewer on this story! And oh, will Merry have his hands full! ;)  
  
Canadian-Hobbit: I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I hope you continue to do so!  
  
Mint Sauce: You got to feel sorry for Pippin. :0) Oh, and by the way, anyone who has also read Minty's Pippin/Diamond story Requiem, see if you can find my little accidental nod to her great story! :0)  
  
Sigl: *whispers* I won't tell anyone! I'm glad you were able to get on though! I don't see you enough any more! *hugs*  
  
Lemondrop: Wow! You are excited! You make me feel so special! *hugs* Yes, I have developed a soft spot for Estella's character. And a new one for Merry and Pippin. I've just discovered how much fun they all are to write! (and I saw your review for Rain Rain Go Away! Yay for the plot bunnies! I hope the nasty teacherses lay off the homework!)  
  
Arwen Baggins: You know, I am actually thinking about a Pippin/Diamond romance making a small appearance later on. :0) And about the whole Fredegar thing, check the note below.  
  
Polychrome: Oh yes. Nothing like the originals! And yet, even the originals are open, because Tolkien never described Estella and Diamond, so we are free to do what we want! :0)  
  
DiamondTook3: I'm glad you're enjoying it! *hugs*  
  
MLynnBloom: Aw, Merry doesn't talk to her in this chapter. Not quite yet. ;)  
  
KitKatz: Thank you for the kind words! And about Fatty, check the note below.  
  
PippinFinn: Yes Estella is quite rude. That's just how her character developed herself. I'm sure she'll discover how sweet Merry is. :0)  
  
Concetta: I'm continuing!  
  
NOTE: As Arwen Baggins and KitKatz pointed out, I took the liberty of making Merry and Pippin not know that Estella was Fatty's sister. I actually do have an explanation for this, as you will see in this chapter. And the fact that he is her brother does play a part in the story. I have no intention of altering the oh-so-helpful family trees in the appendices, and I am trying to keep it as close to being true to the book as possible. I personally do not think of it as too much of an AU, but if you all feel that it is because of my decision for them not to know Estella, I will agree to call it so.  
  
WOAH! *goes cross-eyed* Too many author's notes! This chapter is going to be freakishly long! Oh well. You all probably don't mind that. :0)  
  
On with the story!  
  
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The smoke from the long, curved pipe drifted lazily up into the air. The wind blowing through it twisted it into amusing patterns and making it look like it was swirling and dancing. Or so Meriadoc Brandybuck thought, as he sat there idly smoking his pipe. He was sitting in a comfortable chair outside of the Green Dragon Inn, the noise and chatter of the hobbits inside to his back. Somewhere in there, doubtless with the largest mug of ale available in his hands, was Pippin.  
  
He fingered his pipe thoughtfully. It used to always be that when he smoked his pipe he would be joking around with a friend (usually Pippin), or telling some other hobbits an embarrassing anecdote from when his cousin was young. Now whenever he smoked, he could only think of King Theoden and the talks of herb-lore they would never have. "Smoke then, and think of him," Aragorn had said, though at first it had made him sad. Now though, he found that smoking was perfect for remembering him, or simply sifting through the thoughts that ran through his head.  
  
And right now, he had a lot to think about.  
  
If they stayed to the schedule they set for themselves, he and Pippin should be off to the next Inn someplace else. In a way, he supposed, one could say that Sam Gamgee inspired them. Merry had noticed how Sam was going around the Shire and bringing it back to life by replacing all the trees and gardens that had been destroyed by the ruffians. Also wanting to do their part, he and Pippin also took to traveling the Shire even though they never went as far as digging and working in the dirt as Sam was. It was enough for them to just look over everything and make sure that the Shire was healing well. Although, Merry did suspect that Pippin was only in it to flaunt his armor and flirt with the all the lasses.  
  
Not that he couldn't have the same doubts about himself.  
  
"What are you doing out here, Merry?" The jovial voice sounded above the clamor from the Inn. "Goodness, Merry! You look like an old gaffer sitting in his chair to ease his aching joints!" Pippin strode out of the doorway, flopped down into the chair beside his cousin, and eyed him teasingly.  
  
Merry chuckled, "Only you could make that kind of comparison, Pip." After the other's answering laugh they both fell quiet. Merry continued smoking his pipe silently, but Pippin twiddled his thumbs impatiently.  
  
"Why are you out here all alone?" Pippin asked, getting up and gesturing to the open door, "Come on in, Merry, and join the fun!"  
  
"No, I'm fine," he answered, his eyes absently following the trails of his pipe smoke, "You go on back inside, Pippin. I need to think."  
  
"Think about what?" A smile grew about Pippin's lips, "Got your plan for Estella yet?"  
  
Merry sighed pensively, "No, not yet. But I have noticed something. Her name is Estella Bolger."  
  
Obviously expecting him to say more, Pippin did not answer for a moment. When it was clear that this one simple statement was all that was coming, Pippin raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Yes? What is your point?"  
  
"Her last name is Bolger," Merry emphasized, "Do you think she's related to Fredegar?"  
  
"Good ol' Fatty related to a mean lass like her?" Pippin was clearly appalled at the idea, "Are you going nuts, Merry? How can you possibly come up with that idea?"  
  
"It's not like I am saying that she is his sister or something!" replied Merry defensively.  
  
"Perish the thought," Pippin said, shuddering.  
  
"I just wondered if they might be distant cousins of some sort," continued Merry, "you know? The remote relative known only by casual acquaintance."  
  
"Aye," Pippin muttered softly, "As if the Fatty we know would acquaint himself with someone the likes of her."  
  
"Anyways," Merry said trying to change the subject, "That's why I am out here."  
  
"To wait and see if Fatty shows up, and ask him if he has a fiendish cousin?"  
  
Stifling a laugh, Merry shrugged, "If you want to put it that way. I would like to see to him anyhow, since we haven't talked for a while. And I figured that I may very well find him here."  
  
And that was a very good guess of Merry's. After being released from the Lockholes, all of the hobbits that knew him looked in pity upon the now all too thin Fredegar Bolger. He was all too eager to consent to their urges for him too eat, and it was always a favorite pastime of Fatty's to go to the nearby Inn and have a mug of ale with his friends. And of all the Inns, the Green Dragon was the closest and favorite of Fatty's.  
  
Pippin patted Merry's shoulder, "It looks like you've really thought this over," he said, "But regardless of whether or not Estella and Fatty are related, what do you stand to gain from knowing anything about that?"  
  
"Connections, Pip," Merry stated firmly, "connections."  
  
"What?" Puzzlement was detectable on Pippin's face, until it finally dawned on him, "Oh!" He said, exaggerating the vowel into a stretched and elongated expression, "I see. Well, in that case, it might actually have been more convenient if he were related to Estella."  
  
"What about Estella?"  
  
Both hobbits spun around at this voice, and Pippin was so startled that he fell out of his chair and landed with a thud on the ground. Merry however, as soon as he saw the new arrival's face, he leapt up and wrapped the other hobbit in an embrace.  
  
"Fatty!" he exclaimed cheerfully, "I haven't seen you in too long! How are you?" The other hobbit was almost too thin to be recognized as the Fatty that would joke around with Merry and Pippin before they left on their travels, but Merry would know that wide grin anywhere.  
  
"Not too bad, Merry!" Fatty laughed, returning Merry's embrace, "Although I am very looking forward to some good food here!" He patted his stomach, "To small for my liking!"  
  
Pippin, still sitting on the ground where he had fallen, crossed his arms and delivered the flawless pout that had gotten him out of more than one scrape as a child, "And I suppose no one cares about their poor dear younger cousin sprawled upon the cold hard ground?"  
  
Merry grinned and shook his head, "Don't even try it Pippin. You know that look never worked on me!" He chuckled as Pippin stuck his lower lip out even further, and then proceeded to reach out his hand and help his cousin up.  
  
"So," Fatty said, as Pippin composed himself and brushed the dirt off his clothing, "Why where you two talking about Estella?" His smile faded slightly, "I didn't know you knew her."  
  
"We didn't," Merry explained, watching Fatty carefully and wondering why his face looked so troubled, "Until Pippin made a fool of himself in front of her at the market." He winked at Pippin, who was cringing at the memory.  
  
Fatty bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, "Why was she there?" he mumbled in himself, "Grandmother said that she would keep her at the house."  
  
Pippin raised his eyebrows, "Fatty, what are you talking about?"  
  
"Hmm?" Fatty was dragged out of his reverie, "Oh, nothing. I'm just a bit frustrated, that's all." He tried to avoid the subject, but Merry and Pippin would not be satisfied. Finally, when their questioning glances became too wearisome, Fatty gave in. "Look," Fatty said quickly, "I'll explain it to you, but you must promise you will never tell a soul."  
  
"Fatty . . ."  
  
"Promise me!"  
  
"All right, all right," Merry said, "I promise. Pip?"  
  
Pippin spread his hands and nodded, "Me too. You have my word."  
  
Sighing, Fatty looked down to avoid the others' eyes. "Estella is my sister." He flinched expecting an outburst, and when only silence answered him he hesitantly raised his gaze.  
  
Pippin and Merry were gaping openly, there mouths hanging open.  
  
Suddenly Pippin burst out laughing, almost bent double with mirth, "That's a good one, Fatty!" Tears of laughter streamed down his cheeks, "Oh, I can always count on you to crack a good joke!"  
  
He flinched as Merry elbowed him in the ribs. "Pippin," he muttered under his breath, "I don't think he was joking."  
  
"What?" Pippin's face paled as he saw Fatty's glare.  
  
Narrowing his eyes, Merry tilted his head, "Then why have you never spoken of her before?"  
  
Fatty opened his mouth to answer but Pippin beat him to it, "Think about it Merry," He said, "Would you want everyone to know if YOU had a sister who had such a rotten streak in her? No offence, Fatty."  
  
"No offence taken," Fatty assured him, "Believe me, even our parents can hardly stand to have her around, especially when there are guests over. No matter how many chances we give her, she always manages to ruin any occasion."  
  
Merry could see the logic in this, but he could feel the tiniest stab of pity in his heart for the poor girl. Did he just call her 'poor girl?' "So where does she go?" he asked softly.  
  
"We usually send her to our Grandmother Hetta's place. Grandmother is almost as bad as Estella, if not worse. They get along about as well as they can, considering . . ." Fatty trailed off, and then shrugged.  
  
"So that's where she can usually be found?" Merry mused.  
  
"I suppose so, Merry," Fatty said slowly, "If anyone would even want to find her, that is."  
  
A smile crept onto Merry's face, "Where is your Grandmother's home located?"  
  
Fatty's face scrunched into a grimace, "Why would you want to know?"  
  
"Because," Pippin butted his way back into the conversation, "I dared Merry to try and win the girl's feelings in time for the Yule celebration."  
  
"You WHAT?" Fatty's eyes nearly popped out of his head in shock. He then turned a pitying gaze to Merry, "And you agreed to this?"  
  
Merry smirked, "Sure I did. It'll be no problem."  
  
Fatty looked like he was going to say something about Merry's bold statement, but then said instead, "Go about three miles south from Hobbiton to find my Grandmother's home. It should be easy to find, as there is not a single other Hobbit hole in the vicinity of it."  
  
"Thank you, Fatty," Merry said, patting his friend on the back, "We won't keep you any longer. Go on in and have your meal."  
  
"Good luck," Fatty told him, "if any luck can find you near my sister."  
  
TBC 


	3. Strategies

Hello everyone! I should be (notice the should) getting this story up a lot faster now, since it is my only work in progress right now. So everybody dance! *dances*  
  
DiamondTook3: Thank you for your kind words! Yes, I got TTTEE, and it's awesome! Well, by now you've probably seen it too. :0)  
  
Loveofthering: Oh yes. Merry's most definitely going to have his hands full. And we will laugh when we see it. :0)  
  
Rosa Cotton: Yes, poor Pippin suffers many embarrassing moments in this story. Lucky for him, I don't think any more are going to coming in the very near future.  
  
Arwen Baggins: I'm sorry if you find this story unbelievable. I personally think the plot line works relatively well. Besides, Grandmother Hetta lives rather far from anyone else, as Fatty says. I think it would be possible. And possibilities are what breed stories.  
  
KitKatz: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Here's an update!  
  
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Yes, I am having so much fun writing her. :0) I'm glad you like her!  
  
MLynnBloom: Yesss! We hates the nasssty teacherses! They tells us we would not have much homework, and then we stays up until the white face appears working on the nassty homework! Wicked! Tricksy! False they are! We hates them! :0)  
  
Rosie Lemondrop: Thank you so much for the feedback! Yes, I could not get the picture of Pippin pouting out of my head for a very long time. :0)  
  
Aragorns-gurl33: And being dogpiled by the hobbits is supposed to be a bad thing? *wink* Hehe. :0)  
  
Concetta: Here's an update!  
  
Okay! On with the story!  
  
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Merry was a tiny bit surprised when the modest hobbit hole came into view as his pony clopped its way along the path. It would almost look like a beautiful painting, if it were not for the lingering scars the ruffians had left. One such scar was a wide tree trunk poking out of the ground near the front of the hobbit hole. Merry shook his head sadly. That was one more thing for Sam to be upset about; that tree must have been one of the old majestic giants.  
  
If one looked past this, all they saw was a quaint little dwelling with roses in the gardens, clothes hanging out on the line to dry, and inside the round windows were curtains which were embroidered with tiny blue flowers. For a moment, Merry wondered if he had come to the right place.  
  
Then again, what had he been expecting? A chance to reminisce back to the darkness of Moria?  
  
He shrugged off the thought. Dismounting his pony, he tied her loosely to the corner of the fence and continued towards the door on foot. As he drew closer, he could make out someone speaking.  
  
"What were you expecting me to have to eat, Estella?" A cracked voice shrilled, "I am not some dratted conjuring wizard! I cannot simply make my luncheon appear from thin air!"  
  
Merry cringed. He would hate to be on the receiving end of that ire. He couldn't hear the reply, but he did now know from where Estella most likely got her attitude.  
  
After a pause, the shrill voice came again, "Don't lie to me, girl! You must learn some responsibility if you're to take care of a poor old woman such as I! Since you seem to not have gotten the job done yesterday, please do so now!" Another pause, and then, "Well, what are you waiting for, Estella! Go!"  
  
Merry jumped as the round door burst open, and Estella stormed out. She stood silently for a moment, clenching and unclenching her fists, before throwing a cloak around her shoulders and stomping away from the hobbit hole muttering foul language under her breath.  
  
As she drew closer to where Merry stood she suddenly looked up, obviously seeing him for the first time. She narrowed her eyes a bit and said brusquely, "Are you lost?"  
  
"No, miss," Merry said smoothly, ready to deliver his fabricated explanation for why he was here. He opened his mouth . . . and then promptly shut it. He had no fabricated explanation. "Uh," he began uncertainly, "Yes, actually, I am lost. I was on my way to . . . er . . . the Green Dragon! That's it! And . . . uh . . . here I am."  
  
Estella, her expression blank, regarded him for moment, and then looked back down the only road leading to her grandmother's hobbit hole. A road that went nearly in the exact direction of the Green Dragon. She raised an eyebrow, "Are you trying to be funny, sir?" She asked sarcastically, "Or are you really that lacking in your intelligence? You sound like a fool."  
  
Merry's gaze roved about evasively. Then he burst out laughing, "Yes!" he said between his forced mirth, "It was a joke, you see? And you fell for it completely!" He looked up quickly to gauge her reaction.  
  
Estella eyed him suspiciously.  
  
Straightening, he composed himself and offered his hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Estella," he said cordially, "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck." He accompanied the mention of his name with what he thought was a striking smile.  
  
"The Master of Brandy Hall's son," She mused, glancing at his outstretched hand, but she maid no move to take it. Then, suddenly, her head snapped up and she glared at him with blazing eyes, "How do know my name?"  
  
Merry awkwardly withdrew his hand, "Well," he shuffled nervously, unnerved by that fearless glower, "Last time I checked I was friends with your brother, Fatty."  
  
Her face softened somewhat, "And he told you about me?"  
  
"Of course," Merry replied, "Why shouldn't he?"  
  
Apparently, Estella chose not to answer his question, and instead shouldered her way past him, "Forgive me, Meriadoc, but. . ."  
  
"You can call me just Merry."  
  
"Fine, Merry," She waved him off, "But, as I was going to say, I have to be going."  
  
He followed her as she walked, "Where are you off to?"  
  
If she knew he was following her, she made no sign, "I need to go to the market to get some bread and fruit for my Grandmother Hetta."  
  
"So," Merry considered, "She was the one with the shrill voice that I heard, right? It must be difficult living with someone like that."  
  
She whirled around, and Merry nearly tripped over his own feet to avoid colliding with her, "How DARE you say such things about my Grandmother?" She hissed, shaking with rage.  
  
Merry backed up, holding his hands up in submission, "I'm terribly sorry, Estella! I didn't . . ."  
  
"You should be sorry!" She spat the words at him, and then turned to continue on her way.  
  
"Wait!" Merry called to her, groping about desperately for a way to keep where he could try and work her over with his charm, "Are you sure you want to go all the way to the market on foot?" He asked at last, nearly backing down when she did not even turn around to acknowledge him, "You may ride my pony if you wish."  
  
"I'm not crippled," she responded tersely, "I can make it there just fine on my own."  
  
As he watched her walk briskly away, Merry slumped against the fence, discouraged. If there was one thing that girl lacked, it was tactfulness.  
  
He needed to adapt his strategies.  
  
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"I'm coming, I'm coming," Rosamunda Bolger called out pleasantly, hustling over to the round door to her home. The person outside knocked politely once more before Rosamunda reached the door and opened it.  
  
"Meriadoc!" She exclaimed, with almost too much friendliness, "I have not seen you in too long, dear boy!" She reached out and pulled him into her, hugging him tightly.  
  
"Yes, it has been too long, Mrs. Bolger!" He smiled courteously.  
  
"Oh, it seems like just yesterday," She murmured, patting Merry's arm, "When you and my boy, Fredegar, were small lads and would go off playing together," She sighed, finally pulling away from the embrace, "Sometimes, I feel like you're a son of my own,"  
  
Merry grinned, "You were lucky we didn't usually stay at your home when we got into mischief," his eyes twinkled, "You do know that your son and I earned quite a large reputation at Brandy Hall."  
  
She let out a hearty laugh, "Yes, yes," She gestured for him to follow her into the parlor, "So, lad, what brings you here?"  
  
"I'm actually here to bring a message from my father,"  
  
"Don't tell me Saradoc wants me to help cook a feast for a multitude of guests again."  
  
"Actually," Merry replied, "He requests that you and your family be the guests."  
  
"Oh! How kind of him!" Rosamunda said, her rosy cheeks becoming more prominent as she smiled.  
  
"Yes," Merry said graciously, "Indeed, it has been too long. We would like to invite your family . . . your entire family. . . as in everyone . . . to come to Brandy Hall to dine with us the evening on the day after tomorrow."  
  
"Oh, we would be delighted!" She clapped her hands energetically, "I will have to tell my husband and Fredegar!"  
  
"Don't forget Estella," Merry reminded her.  
  
"Yes, I will tell my daughter too," Rosamunda agreed, nodding her head slightly.  
  
"Then it's all settled!" Merry said aloud, and then in his thoughts, a tiny voice whispered, 'Oh, I've got it all settled all right! This plan is foolproof! Well, it would be if I had a plan. It doesn't matter. I can improvise. And I'll melt Estella's heart of ice if it's the last thing I do!' The memory of her fiery glare resurfaced in his mind, 'Which it probably will be if I mess this up.'  
  
TBC 


	4. Dinner

*squirms in chair nervously* I hope nobody's given up on this story. I got a little distracted with ROTK (awesome by the way). Already seen it twice, and going again tonight. :0)  
  
Komikitty: Thank you for coming to read it! *hugs*  
  
DiamondTook3: TTTEE was great. Have you seen ROTK yet? :0) Does Merry melt her heart of ice? Hmm. . . We'll just have to wait and see!  
  
KitKatz: Eeek! Threats! *hides*  
  
MLynnBloom: And can you believe that I used to be afraid to write Merry? Gee whiz, he writes himself! :0)  
  
Loveofthering: Ooh, I hope you like this chapter. *wink*  
  
RosieLemondrop: Oh, this is such a relief from Rain! Phew! And you know I cannot help the Sam cameos . . . unfortunately there isn't one in this chapter. :0( Oh, and if you like humorous hobbit romance, check out Mint Sauce's Pippin/Diamond story titled Requiem.  
  
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Thank you! *hugs*  
  
Brandybuckgirl: It's okay! You are free to squeal about the hobbits all you want! Believe me! I squeal quite enough. *wink* Oh, and I'm not sure Estella would like the idea of him betting on her affections either. . . just so you know . . . (not-so-subtle foreshadowing for a distant chapter)  
  
Samwisegirl12: Oh surely there has to be some sort of constructive criticism! Nobody's perfect! Especially not me.  
  
Airelon: Here you go! *hugs*  
  
Polychrome: Oh please never give up on this story! Believe me when I say that I will never ever ever ever ever ever stop writing in the middle of a story, no matter how long it takes me!  
  
By the way, thanks to Mint Sauce for helping me out with this chapter!  
  
On to the story at last!  
  
******************************************************  
  
"Remember," Merry reiterated once more, "This was your idea."  
  
"All right, I suppose so, son," Saradoc said, speaking slowly through his thoughts, "But why on earth does it make any difference?"  
  
"Just trust me," Merry patted his father on the shoulder, "You know how Mrs. Bolger loves traditional things, and it would be most polite if we stuck to the tradition of the Master of the Hall doing the inviting, don't you think?"  
  
Saradoc smiled at his son, "You will make a great Master someday, Meriadoc, if you think all things through this much."  
  
"See?" Merry said playfully, "and you told me when I was a child that I wouldn't amount to anything!"  
  
"That was before you started using your head, son."  
  
"I used my head a lot!"  
  
"And what a hard head it is," Saradoc shook his head mirthfully, "There's still a mark on the pantry door where you tried to break in."  
  
*******************************************************  
  
The dining room at Brandy Hall was enormous. Indeed, it was large enough to contain everyone who dwelt in that place. It was too much of a chore to be used at every meal, but every evening at dinnertime it became packed full of many hobbits, and the air was filled with the din of the crowd.  
  
It was far too large for a small social gathering. So Saradoc and Esmeralda Brandybuck had decided it would be best to have a quiet late dinner with the Bolgers in a smaller room, with far less commotion.  
  
And yet, when all was said and done, there seemed to be hardly any commotion at all.  
  
Saradoc and Odovacar Bolger sat at the head of the table together, conversing lightly about plans and schedules.  
  
Esmeralda and Rosamunda made the most noise of them all by far, chatting and gossiping away as they were.  
  
Fatty sat to Merry's left, though he seemed so occupied by his meal that he didn't make a very engaging conversationalist at the moment. Merry was far more interested in the person who sat at his right.  
  
At first, he had planned to wait for her to speak first. But since she had arrived hours earlier, he had not heard so much as a word escape her mouth. Discouraged, he slumped in his chair, picking at his food.  
  
"So," Saradoc was saying, "You're planning to spend the night here?"  
  
"I think it would be for the best, yes," Odovacar replied, "It would be simply too much trouble to travel back at this late hour, especially with the carriage for my wife and daughter. I do hope we are not intruding on your hospitality?"  
  
"Of course not!" Saradoc exclaimed, "You are welcome here at any time! I only wish that we could have had dinner together more often!"  
  
And so on and on droned the genial pleasantries in Merry's ears. He stole a glace at Estella. She was staring blankly at the food on her plate. What could he do to elicit a response from her?  
  
Merry nudged Fatty and whispered quietly, but still loud enough for Estella to hear, "Remember that one day at the Green Dragon?"  
  
Fatty almost choked on his muffin, "The time you and cousin Pippin were dancing on the tables completely drunk?"  
  
"Well," Merry said nervously, "Actually I was thinking of the time. . ."  
  
"And you fell off the table and landed on top of Mayor Whitfoot!" Fatty burst out into laughter.  
  
Merry shifted uncomfortably, all too aware of their parents gazes, "Uh. . . Fatty? Maybe . . ."  
  
But Fatty wasn't listening. He was laughing so hard that tears were streaming from his eyes. Merry, meanwhile, was turning quite red. He was almost to the point of knocking Fatty out of his chair, when he caught sight of Estella's face.  
  
She was, for the first time since Merry had first seen her, wearing a small smile as she listened to their conversation. Estella was smiling.  
  
Suddenly, Merry's confidence grew. If this was what it took to gain Estella's attention. . . then so be it.  
  
"Don't forget the song!" Merry added suddenly.  
  
"What?" Fatty said, not expecting to hear Merry contribute to his own humiliation.  
  
"We started singing!" Merry explained, standing up to demonstrate, "Hey! Ho! To the bottle I. . ."  
  
"Merry!" Esmeralda Brandybuck scolded, "That is quite enough! Sit down and hush!"  
  
"Yes mother." Merry flopped back down in his seat despondently. Estella had stopped smiling. Well, so much for that idea.  
  
He was moping in his own failure when suddenly a voice whispered in his ear, "Why is it, that lads always flaunt about their drunkenness as if competing for an award?"  
  
Merry almost jumped out of his chair. Estella was gazing at him through inquisitive eyes. "Well," Merry answered slowly, "I usually don't."  
  
"I see." She sat back in her chair, "I was just wondering if you are always as silly as you seem to be to me." Merry opened his mouth to answer, but she beat him to it, "Did you really land on top of the Mayor?"  
  
Merry cringed, "And I still don't hear the end to it."  
  
"Serves him right," Estella raised her voice a bit, as if daring anyone around to hear, "As old and cranky as he is."  
  
"Estella!" Rosamunda, having overheard, attempted to reprimand her daughter, "You need not say such things about kindly souls!" The Brandybuck family were politely quiet.  
  
"He's not here to hear it."  
  
"Nevertheless," Her father added, "It is still not proper, especially from a lady's mouth."  
  
"So," Estella said derisively, "If Meriadoc here spoke such, it would not be as wrong as it would be from a lady?" Merry averted his gaze, determined not to take part in the argument.  
  
"Estella, your father did not mean . . ."  
  
"Mother, do not put words in his mouth! Let him speak for himself!" She turned her fiery gaze to Odovacar, but he was pale and did not speak.  
  
Fatty started to rise from his chair, "Sister . . ."  
  
"Sit!" At her word of command, his legs gave out and he fell back down. "I will not have you involved in this, Fredegar."  
  
"Estella," Rosamunda said, vainly trying to be composed, "Now is not the time to bring this up. It is not fair to the Brandybucks who have kindly invited us. Now, if you could just calm yourself . . ."  
  
"Are you embarrassed?" Estella shot the question at her fiercely, "Is that it mother? Even after all this time you are still ashamed of me?"  
  
"Estella dear!" Rosamunda pleaded, "Why can you not act like the other lasses your age?"  
  
Estella tensed visibly, "You want me to act like them?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "All right then. I will do the most recent thing I saw a lass my age do, if that will please you mother."  
  
She looked down at Merry, who was sitting in awkward silence, "I'm sorry you had to be the nearest lad." Her nose scrunched up as if in revulsion. Then without warning she grabbed his face forcefully, her nails digging into his skin, and she kissed him.  
  
The room went silent with shock.  
  
Merry had hardly any time to react, before she shoved him back into his seat. She stared at him for a long moment, and Merry half-imagined he could see a strange flicker in her eyes. But he could not be sure, since she was soon leaving the room in a huff.  
  
And then the only thing he could hear was the hurried apologies from Odovacar for his daughter's behavior.  
  
TBC 


	5. Storybooks

Why, hello everyone! I hope you all hade a very Merry (and Pippin) Christmas (or any other holiday you celebrate)!  
  
Unfortunately, this will be my last post for a while, since I will be going on a short vacation in a couple days. (Of course, with the rate I'm updating, it will probably make no difference whatsoever, so none of you have to fret about it.) :0)  
  
And everyone cheer for ROTK! *cheers*  
  
*hugs all reviewers*  
  
DiamondTook3: Merry can't say he didn't enjoy that. In fact, I don't think Estella can either. *wink*  
  
Arwen Baggins: Of course, Merry will always turn everything around and make it work for him. :0)  
  
Aragorns-gurl33: Thank you very much! *hugs* I'm sure the plot bunnies will attack for more Sam/Rosie stuff eventually.  
  
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Who wouldn't enjoy a kiss from Merry? It's only a matter of whether she'll admit it. :0)  
  
Loveofthering: Thank you! *hugs* I had so much fun writing the end to that last chapter. :0)  
  
RosieLemondrop: I LOVED Merry and Pippin dancing on the tables. And I loved Pippin singing. In fact, I'm not sure if there was anything I didn't love. (And the count of viewings is three now *wink*) :0) I glad you liked that chapter! I sure did have a great time writing it. *dances*  
  
MLynnBloom: Thank you! :0) As for what Merry's going to do about it. . . you'll see in this chapter!  
  
KitKatz: Hehe! I'm glad you liked it! *hugs* Here's more!  
  
Polychrome: See? Here's more! I told you I wouldn't fail you! *wink* I'm glad you're enjoying it! :0)  
  
Twanda: *hugs* Thank you for your kind words! And yes, ROTK was AWESOME! :0)  
  
Bertiebottsgeorge: I'm glad you like it! *hugs*  
  
***: Interesting name there. . . *wink* Hey, if you wouldn't mind, could you refrain from cursing in your reviews? I'm really really glad you're enjoying it, but I'm a little miss goody goody and curse words tend to make me cringe. :0)  
  
Concetta: Hehe. I'm surprised Merry's head hasn't fallen off. *wink*  
  
Okay, I'm done rambling. On with the story!  
  
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Fatty Bolger ambled slowly into the library at Brandy Hall; his hands were deep in his pockets and his shoulders slumped. He had kept the knowledge of his horrible sister from his friends for as long as he could. Who could blame him? If Merry and Pippin had known of Estella when they were younger, Fatty feared they would never have wanted to be with him, for fear that they would have to deal with her all the time.  
  
And that night's events had proved it. If only Merry had not gotten such a horrible idea in his head! How could he possible even want to win Estella's feelings? Or at least the few feelings she possessed.  
  
Exhausted, his mother and father had already taken to their beds. Estella had stormed off to the room the Brandybucks had provided for her, but who knew what she was doing in there. Frankly, Fatty didn't care in the slightest.  
  
A light in the library caused Fatty to pause slightly. He didn't know anyone else was still awake.  
  
"Hello?" He called out softly, "Who's there?"  
  
"Fatty!" Came Merry's voice from the corner of the room, "I didn't know you were still up."  
  
"And I thought I was the only one," Fatty replied, coming close enough to see Merry's face illuminated by the light of a single wavering candle. He was sitting in a large, aged chair and was flipping through a large book. As Fatty drew closer, Merry shut the book gently.  
  
"A Tale of a Dreaming Love," Fatty read the title incredulously.  
  
Merry sat back in his chair, "It's actually quite a good book."  
  
"Cousin? Have you suffered any substantial head injuries lately?"  
  
Laughing, Merry shook his head, "No, Fatty, I have not gone nuts. I'm just trying to do some research."  
  
Fatty froze, "Please tell me this is not about Estella." When the only answer he received was a small grin, he began to plead, "Merry! You have no idea what you're trying to do! You've doomed yourself!"  
  
"Only if I fail," Merry replied with surety, "And I don't intend to."  
  
***************************************************************  
  
The silence of the night was broken by a persistent clicking sound on the side of Brandy Hall. Just as one would think it had stopped completely, it would start up again, clicking away like a woodpecker knocking against a tree one click at a time. One more click echoed through the dark. Then another.  
  
And then there was a sudden sound of shattering glass.  
  
Startled from her sleep by the noise, Estella Bolger stumbled out of bed and peered out through the jagged bits of glass that was once her window. She was clearly startled by what she saw, and even rubbed furiously at her eyes to make certain that grogginess was not deceiving her. Once she realized this was not the case, her face twisted into a scowl.  
  
"Meriadoc Brandybuck!" She hissed, trying to keep her voice down as much as she was able, "I am aware of your lack of common sense, but why on earth are you up breaking windows at this hour?"  
  
Merry let the small stone he was holding fall from his hand, and he brushed back his bed-mussed curls, "Good evening Estella. Don't worry your little head. I was only tossing tiny stones."  
  
Estella shot a sidelong glace at her broken window, "Pardon me, but no tiny stone could manage that."  
  
Shrugging, Merry muttered awkwardly, "All right, maybe they were a little too big, but they did work."  
  
"What?" Estella's mouth dropped open, "If you were TRYING to break my window, Meriadoc, I swear . . ."  
  
"No, no, no," Merry explained quickly, his hands raised as if in surrender, "I only meant to get your attention."  
  
"Well, you did," Estella stated with no small amount of sarcasm, "And why is my attention so direly needed this late at night? Did you have a nightmare? I'm sorry, but that would be your mother's business."  
  
"Do you enjoy making me feel daft?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
Merry took a deep breath, and let it out slowly in a long sigh, as if preparing himself for something. At last, he turned imploring eyes up to girl glaring down at him through the shards of glass. "Estella, why did you kiss me?"  
  
If her eyes had opened up any more from Merry's question, they surely would have fallen out of her head. "You must be joking!" She nearly shouted, "That argument between me and my family would have awoken Odo Proudfoot after a dozen tankards of ale!"  
  
"I won't disagree with that."  
  
If anything, Estella's eyes grew colder, "Then what's your point?"  
  
"Why did you kiss me?" Merry persisted, "I'm sure I am not incorrect in assuming that you have dealt with such arguments many times before. Surely there could have been some other way for you to get back at your family for what they said."  
  
"So," her eyes were dangerously close to blazing, "You have a problem with the way I treat my family?"  
  
"Well, I may just have a problem with how your family treats you."  
  
Estella's fierce mask seems to falter, and she did not respond.  
  
"Just answer me," he asked a final time, "Why did you kiss me?"  
  
"Why should you care?" Estella countered softly.  
  
"Why shouldn't I?" Said Merry, suddenly avoiding her gaze, "I have to be honest with you. I have been kissed by lasses before, but it was never . . . quite. . . like that . . ."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "That's because you have most likely never been kissed by someone who hates you."  
  
"That's just it!" Merry exclaimed, a cocky grin finding its way onto his face, "Estella, I don't think you hate me."  
  
"I DO think you're highly delusional."  
  
"And you know what else I think?" Merry asked, his eyes twinkling, "I think you enjoyed that kiss."  
  
"BITE YOUR TONGUE!" Estella screamed, a wild fire in her countenance, "Is this what you are up to at this hour of the night? Coming to my bedroom window and making me look like a lovesick damsel!"  
  
"Well, you like to make me look daft, so I guess we're even."  
  
"But I never come to your bedroom and throw stones at your window!" She raged.  
  
Merry sighed teasingly, "Don't you ever read any storybooks?"  
  
"No!" Estella declared with furious finality, "And I don't think I care to!"  
  
"They can be quite good actually," mused Merry, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "I know there was one cousin Frodo enjoyed about a . . ."  
  
"Good night Merry!" snarled Estella, "I hope your sleep is full of nightmares!" She paused before adding, "And you better find someone to fix my window!" With that, she spun away, and a few seconds later, Merry could hear a door slam shut as she left her room.  
  
"That went well," He smiled to himself. Indeed it had, for through her own vicious defense of herself, she had let it slip.  
  
Merry knew he had a chance.  
  
TBC 


	6. Cold

Hello, hello! I'm back from the land of the pig farms! And I have been cured from my computer withdrawal that I suffered from being in a place where such things are expensive and rare commodities. :0)  
  
DiamondTook3: They DO make such a cute couple. *wink* Gotta love hobbity romance.  
  
Loveofthering: Well, I'm back! And ironically writing sooner than I have on previous occasions. . . hehe. :0) *hugs* I'm glad I seem to be doing okay on this story in your eyes!  
  
KitKatz: Aw, you're so kind! *hugs* Hehe. Your favorite lines were some of my favorites too. :0)  
  
Aragorns-gurl33: Merry does do quite an amazing job at handling her doesn't he? It was so completely meant to be, don't you think? :0)  
  
Black Jaguar12: Oh, I wouldn't say he's that bad! Er . . . okay so maybe he is. :0)  
  
BurnsideBabe2003: Hey, if you like this one, you should definitely delve deeper into the fabulous realm of hobbit romances! If you would like some recommendations, I've got plenty and you only need to ask! *hugs*  
  
MLynnBloom: Merry's been the only person she's ever encountered in her life that makes her feel the way she does. :0) She most definitely feels very vulnerable about now.  
  
Bertiebottsgeorge: Ah, but are you sure she does not already have a crush on him? *wink*  
  
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Well, here's more! :0)  
  
RosieLemondrop: Merry IS such a "gallant little gentleman" isn't he? *huggles Merry* Yes, the bet is looming over everything . . . and it's effect on the story will not become apparent until quite a bit later.  
  
Herculeha: It's great to have you back! *hugs and throws confetti* Now while I have the chance. . . PLEASE update your story soon! *best attempt at sad puppy face* I miss that story so much! I wanna hear more!  
  
All right. Now it's time to go on with the story. :0)  
  
******************************************************  
  
The schedule was as set as if it had been carved in stone. As soon as the sun rose, the Bolgers would get their belongings together, bid their gracious friends farewell, and set off on the road back home. After all, they only intended to stay for one night. It would not be polite to intrude upon their hosts any longer than they had. Unfortunately, the Bolgers, and the Brandybucks as well, were in for quite a surprise the next morning when they arose from their beds and peeked out of their windows.  
  
The ground was blanketed in a thick layer of white. One look at the icicle- laden trees and the full gray sky confirmed the fact that there would be no travel that day.  
  
His cloak wrapped tightly around himself, Saradoc Brandybuck hustled in through the kitchen door of Brandy Hall and shook little bits of snow from his hair. Rosamunda Bolger and Saradoc's wife, Esmerelda, who had been busy at work with some other ladies getting a hot breakfast ready for the hall's residents, immediately rushed over to him.  
  
"Goodness!" Rosamunda exclaimed, carefully taking off his wet cloak to hang it up to dry, "How did you get it into your head to venture out there into the cold, Master Brandybuck?"  
  
"Just checking the weather," he replied, and then turned to Rosamunda, "This snow blew in amazingly quickly. There was no sign of any bad weather until early this morning, and this much has happened already. The temperature is dropping rapidly. I'm sorry, Rosamunda, but I don't think it's safe for your family to travel back today."  
  
She shook her head, "Oh, I don't wish to impose!"  
  
Patting her shoulder, Saradoc said reassuringly, "Don't worry. You will not be imposing. I wouldn't dream of putting your family in danger."  
  
"Now Saradoc," Esmerelda chided lovingly, rubbing warmth back into his stiff fingers, "You must be dreadfully cold. Let's sit you down by the fire and we can fix you up some tea to warm your bones."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
As Merry strode into the dining hall for breakfast, he quickly skimmed his eyes over the crowd until he spotted the dark, curly-haired head he was looking for. With an added confident bounce in his step, he came over to the table she was at and slid into the seat beside her.  
  
"Good morning, Estella!" He said in an unbearably cheerful voice, ignoring her glare, "And how are you doing this fine day?"  
  
She wrapped her hands tightly around her mug of hot tea and narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits, "Would you like me to exclude the fact that my room is now inhabitable?"  
  
"Oh dear," Merry murmured, mock concern etched on his face, "and how could that have happened?"  
  
"A rather rude hobbit," she declared viciously, "awoke me in the middle of the night and broke my window."  
  
"Pity. I wonder who it could have been?"  
  
Estella stood suddenly, knocking her chair over behind her, "Have you nothing better to do," she demanded, slamming her fist down on the table, "then follow me around and make me miserable!"  
  
"But my dear Estella," Merry said cajolingly, "I prefer the term 'enjoy the presence of' rather than 'follow,' and I believe that you may be the one making yourself miserable." He stood and walked around behind her, lifting her chair up off the ground and setting it right, "Now, why don't you just calm yourself and sit back down. You're drawing stares."  
  
Estella slumped down into her seat and took a long sip of her tea, "Let them stare," she muttered harshly, "they have nothing better to do."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure they do. But now we come to new matters, for I believe I have found the problem!" Merry exclaimed, grinning widely, "You need to have a more positive attitude, Estella!"  
  
"Right," she mumbled, obviously not convinced.  
  
Merry put a hand on her shoulder, "Try this. Let me see you smile! Just once!"  
  
"You're being foolish," she rebuked, shrugging away from his hand.  
  
"All right," Merry said disappointedly, "Maybe I am."  
  
"What?" Estella was startled. She hadn't expected him to give up so fast.  
  
Smirking, he cocked his head playfully, "Why do you seem confused after I agree with you? Aren't you supposed to say something else cruel to me now?"  
  
Immediately, she opened her mouth to speak . . . but she didn't know what to say. Merry seemed to have an odd ability to steal words from her tongue right as she was about to say them. What was it about him that made her feel so open and exposed? It wasn't fair.  
  
"What did you say, Estella?"  
  
She jerked, spilling some of her tea on the table, "What? I didn't say anything!"  
  
"Yes you did," Merry prompted, "You said something wasn't fair."  
  
Oh no . . . she had said that out loud? How much did she say? Her mouth worked soundlessly for a long moment before she finally blurted, "Well, it's none of your business!"  
  
"No need to get flustered, dear lass, I was only asking," Merry laughed a little, leaning back in his seat. Estella, however, decided that she had definitely had enough of him. Shortly after the previous conversation, she stood abruptly and left the room without even waiting for breakfast.  
  
******************************************************  
  
A knock at the door to her room brought Estella's head up from her packing. Wrapping her thick cloak around her more tightly, she let out an annoyed sigh. Her warm breath came out as mist in the frigid air of her room.  
  
"Whoever it is," she declared firmly, "Go away."  
  
'Whoever it was' certainly had no intention of 'going away.' Just as she had expected, the person completely ignored her order (or advice, as she thought it) and opened the creaking door and came right in. And, and she had also been expecting, it was the last person on the planet she wanted to see: Merry.  
  
"My goodness, Estella," he said gently, "Do really have to be so . . . my goodness, Estella, it's so COLD in here!" Quickly setting down the small sack he was holding, he hugged his shivering arms close to himself.  
  
Her hands on her hips, Estella asked in a spiteful voice, "And whose fault is that?"  
  
Merry cringed as he looked over her shoulder at the shattered window, "All right, I'm really sorry about the window."  
  
"What's wrong with you?" she asked, scowling in disdain, "How dare you come here just to rub in my face the fact that you have only succeeded in making my time here dreadful? Just get out. Now."  
  
"But, Estella," Merry once again picked up the small sack he had brought in, "I noticed this morning that you did not get any breakfast. I brought up some bread and apples in case you wanted some."  
  
"Why thank you, Merry!" She smiled and took the bag from him before he could react, "How very thoughtful of you!" She reached in and took out a large apple and rubbed her fingers over it thoughtfully. Merry noticed with alarm that she had a scheming gleam in her eye. "I wonder," she said aloud, her eyes never leaving the apple in her hand, "How many of these it would take to chase you from this room?"  
  
"What do you mean . . ." and then Merry understood. Backing away slowly, he said shakily, "Now Estella, you don't need to . . ."  
  
But it was too late. Even as he was speaking, she hurled the apple at him forcefully. Seeing it whistling through the air towards his face, Merry barely had time to jump out of the way. However, fate had other plans that day, for Merry had been standing directly in front of the closed door. The apple that had been intended for him hit the wooden knob on the door and knocked it clean off.  
  
Each of them looked with shocked faces at the now useless door. Merry was the first to voice the thought that was on both of their minds.  
  
"This can't be good."  
  
TBC 


	7. Trapped

Well, here I am again, with another chapter! I meant to post this chapter earlier. . . but the site wasn't working for me. *sigh*  
  
Thank you for all the reviews! *hugs everybody*  
  
DiamondTook3: Uh oh spagettios indeed! :P *hides from Estella's wrath*  
  
MlynnBloom: It is VERY funny to think that these two will get married! They are an amusing couple indeed. :0)  
  
SunSong: Yay! New reviewer! *hugs* Welcome to the story! I'm glad you're enjoying it!  
  
KitKatz: Ah yes, I love the conversations between the two of them as well. :0) There's nothing better than comic banter between two characters with potential romance.  
  
RosieLemondrop: Actually, *blushes* the snow is only for plot purposes. Weather-related symbolism was something unique to Rain Rain Go Away. I wasn't PLANNING on including any in this story, but now that I think about it, you could almost say that the snow represents Estella's coldness. :0)  
  
Loveofthering: The squabbles between Merry and Estella are an incredible amount of fun to write. :0)  
  
Polychrome: I really update "promptly" as you put it? Wow. And to think I thought I was lagging behind terribly. *hugs*  
  
Herculeha: Oooh . . . I love snuggling hobbits. :0) And I am anxiously waiting for that chapter of my Sunshine on a Rainy Day! *twiddles thumbs impatiently* Hehe.  
  
Black Jaguar12: Yes, that old trick is a classic, isn't it? I just couldn't let this story go by without including it! :0)  
  
El Shark: Another new reviewer! *hugs* Oh, don't worry about pestering me to post. Sometimes I need it for motivation . . . so pester away! *wink* :0)  
  
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Aw, don't throw an apple at your brother! You don't want to be like Estella, do you? :0)  
  
bertiebottsgeorge: Romance is sure to blossom when two are locked in a cold room together. Hehe.  
  
Komikitty: Is this soon enough for you? :P  
  
Mint Sauce: Don't worry about not reviewing. I know you've been reading them anyway, since I've been shoving them in your face for you to read over before I post. :P  
  
Concetta: :0) Hehe!  
  
Okay! On with the story!  
  
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The sack of bread and apples dropped to the floor with a dull thud.  
  
"Merry, you dimwitted oaf!" Estella fumed, her fingers twitching in half- restrained efforts to curl into fists, "WHY did you MOVE?"  
  
His back pressed against the wall, Merry responded as steadily as he could, "In case you hadn't noticed Estella, jumping out of the way rescued me from gaining a rather unsightly bruise I would otherwise be sporting at this very moment."  
  
"And in case YOU have not noticed, we are now TRAPPED in here!" As if intent on making as much noise and chaos as possible, Estella stormed over to her bedside table. Picking up a small decorative glass cup, she threw it against the opposite wall. The cup shattered into a million fragments.  
  
Merry flinched, "Well, at least you might be making enough noise to get somebody's attention . . ."  
  
Whirling around, she walked right up to him until their eyes were inches apart. She whispered venomously, "You think you are so clever, don't you?"  
  
Merry blinked slowly a couple of times before answering, "I think your freckles are cute."  
  
SMACK!  
  
Merry brought his hand up to his reddening cheek where Estella had struck him. After dealing the blow, she had turned away from him and was now sitting on her bed facing away towards the broken window, where thick tendrils of frigid air were creeping in. Rubbing his sore cheek, Merry said ruefully, "Well, it looks like I will be sporting an unsightly bruise regardless."  
  
Estella's shoulders stiffened, and she muttered hoarsely, ignoring what he had said, "If you have any idea how we can get out of this mess, I would be glad to hear it."  
  
Eyeing the door, Merry raised his eyebrows, "Aye, I just might."  
  
Glancing back over her shoulder, Estella looked at him for the first time since striking him. "Oh?" She asked lightly, her gaze wary, "And just what are you planning to do?"  
  
Merry threw her one of his insufferable (as she thought it) smirks, and said confidently, "Just wait and watch, my dear Estella."  
  
He began to roll up his sleeves. But then considering the cold, and thinking better of it, he rolled them back down. Bracing himself, he broke out at a run and slammed into the door at full speed, his shoulder bearing the full brunt of the impact.  
  
Estella watched with an amused glance as he slumped down against the door, which did not budge. "Make that two unsightly bruises," she teased.  
  
"I don't get it," Merry mumbled, not bothering to get up from where he sat on the floor, "It worked on Pippin's door the time he got locked out of his room."  
  
Walking over to him, Estella kneeled down beside him, "For your information, Meriadoc," she taunted, "the only way you could have opened that door running at it the way you were would be by splitting the wood. The door opens inwards."  
  
Merry's mouth dropped open, "And you KNEW that the whole time?"  
  
Estella nodded, "Of course! I just wanted to see you make a fool of yourself!" She grinned at his answering scowl, and reached down to help him up.  
  
"Well, you did," said Merry glumly, taking her hand and hauling himself to his feet. He pushed on the door slightly with his hand, "So the door opens inwards? Hmm, that must have been why the pantry door would never open."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind," Merry rested his forehead against the wall, and hugged his arms close to himself. He was shivering slightly.  
  
"Cold?" Estella inquired bluntly.  
  
"Let's just say that I wished I had my cloak with me," he sighed and closed his eyes, as if he could make it appear out of nowhere by just imagining it, "Now that would be my wool cloak, mind you. Not my lightweight one that my aunt gave me for her birthday . . ." Merry stopped suddenly, the words stolen from his mouth. He looked down and saw a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. He glanced up quickly at Estella, who was adjusting it so it would keep him adequately warm.  
  
Estella shrugged, avoiding his eyes, "Well, I'm sorry it's not a cloak. It's not wool either."  
  
"No, no," Merry reassured her as best he could, though he was puzzled himself, "It's . . . thank you." He paused, as he watched her with a bewildered gaze as she went back down to sit on the bed where she was before. "Estella?"  
  
"Hmm?" She sounded distracted.  
  
Merry fidgeted a bit before he answered. "I'm confused," he said finally, "How is it that one moment you're slapping me, and the next you're concerned that I might be cold?"  
  
"Would you rather I let you freeze?"  
  
"Well, no," Merry stammered, "It's just . . ." He broke off with a frustrated shake of the head. Estella was just too difficult to figure out. Why did he have to fall for her? Why couldn't he have fallen for a kind, simple lass that never did anything terribly unexpected?  
  
Turning his mind away from his thoughts, he noticed that although Estella was doing a magnificent job of trying to mask it, but she couldn't hide the fact that her lips were trembling. Taking a deep breath, Merry walked over to her. Hesitating for only the briefest moment, he then wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him.  
  
She stiffened for a second, and then relaxed into his embrace. To Merry's utter and complete shock, she did not resist at all.  
  
As if sensing his thoughts, Estella, mumbled under her breath, "All right, so I was cold as well. That fact is the only reason I am putting up with this." She paused, her head now resting on his shoulder, "Just don't get any ideas."  
  
TBC 


	8. Free

I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO EXCUSE FOR TAKING THIS LONG! *kneels and kisses reviewers' feet* I humbly ask your forgiveness.  
  
Lots of reviewers this time! Thank you everybody! *Hugs* I really don't deserve you all.  
  
MLynnBloom: I'm glad it made you happy! :0) I was waiting forever to WRITE moment like that! *giggles*  
  
DiamondTook3: I'm glad you liked it! :0) *hugs*  
  
Komikitty: Yay! :0)  
  
Herculeha: Hobbit romances ARE the BEST, aren't they? And I can't resist snuggling hobbits! :0)  
  
Loveofthering: I'm sorry I took so long! *hugs* Here's the next chapter!  
  
Bertiebottsgeorge: Merry does like her quite a bit. Now, the question is, does she like him? Hmm, we'll just have to find out! :0)  
  
Black Jaguar12: *cackles also* I just couldn't resist the idea of two love birds snuggling together to stay warm. :0)  
  
KitKatz: Yes, I had to include the bit about the pantry door. Somehow, whenever I write, the jokes always seem to repeat themselves somehow. if that makes any sense. :P  
  
El Shark: Look! I'm mentioning you again! *hugs* Hehe. I'm glad you're enjoying it!  
  
Concetta: Merry is a sweetie. *sigh* To bad we can't all have him.  
  
Telpedilwen of Mirkwood: Evil laughs are fun. MWAHAHAHAHAHA! :0)  
  
Cindy: *hugs* :0) Glad you like it!  
  
Kylark: No, Merry didn't intend to be stuck in the room with Estella. Works out good for him though, doesn't it? Must be fate. ;)  
  
Polychrome: And now this one had an even longer wait. *hides* I hope it's compensated by something. :0) (And I don't even have TTTEE as an excuse this time. . . . *smacks self*)  
  
Brandybuckgirl: Believe me, you're not the only one who's gotten that idea. ;)  
  
RosieLemondrop: Blankets! Now all we need is tea, and we're good! ;) Well, no tea in this chapter. . . I'll have to make room for it in the next one. *giggle*  
  
SlytherinHeir52: Yes, we have the advantage of knowing how the two souls will end up. All we have to do is watch and be amused! :P  
  
Jemimateaser: She can't stand to be in the same room together for now. But someday . . . *trails off and winks*  
  
Iluvian: Yes, it is a reference to the earlier joke. Somehow, I can never avoid doing something like that. Hehehe. By the way, thank you for your reviews on my other stories! That means a lot to me! *hugs*  
  
Kero: If I can find room for some Pippin/Diamond, I'll be sure to toss it in! I promise! *hugs*  
  
WOAH! *staggers* So many reviews! *hugs everyone and gives them all fresh baked chocolate cookies* Thank you so much! *dances*  
  
Thank you also to Mint Sauce, whom I pester into checking over my chapters for me. *hugs Minty*  
  
Okay, okay, I'm done talking. On with the show!  
  
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"Do you want to know what I think of this? I say that our present situation is just a bump in the road of life!"  
  
"Merry, that's profound," Estella mumbled sarcastically. She was now completely slumped against him, her head lolling on his shoulder. It was Merry's sore shoulder- the one he had used to try and break down the door- but he wasn't about to tell her that.  
  
A gust of wind blew through the window, eliciting a violent tremble from Estella. Merry pulled her tighter against him. Not that it was doing much good. Estella was still shivering, and Merry was just as cold as she was. In fact, the cold brought back some not-so-pleasant memories of Caradhras, even though it had been so much colder there. That didn't change the fact that it was still COLD.  
  
Aware that his mind was rambling, Merry stilled his thoughts and laid his head down into the soft pillow that was Estella's mass of curls. Looking down at her lips, now nearly blue from the temperature, he was struck with the sudden desire to warm them with a kiss. 'No!' he admonished himself, 'She told you not to get any ideas, and you will honor her request!' He sagged dejectedly, his mind at war with itself. 'Don't get any ideas, she says. What about the ones I already have?'  
  
He watched her worriedly. She was shivering fiercely. Merry took her hand from where it lay at her side, and rubbed her slender fingers gently. They felt like ice.  
  
"What . . . what are you doing?" Estella asked, shifting slightly in his arms.  
  
Merry did not falter, even when he responded, "I'm trying to bring some life back into the icicles that were once your fingers."  
  
She jerkily pulled her hand away, "And your attempts are failing utterly, since your fingers are just as cold. Why don't you do something useful? Like try to find a way out of this mess, perhaps?"  
  
"If my memory serves me correctly, my last attempt didn't turn out very well."  
  
She gave an exasperated sigh, "Then try something new! I don't know . . . make some loud noise to attract someone's attention and maybe they'll come investigate."  
  
Merry took a quick moment to look around the room, and then replied, "I don't think there are any more glass bowls to throw against walls."  
  
Shutting her eyes tightly, Estella struggled to maintain composure, "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Now go try and be noisy."  
  
"What do you want me to do? The furniture is too heavy for even both of us to lift, let alone throw."  
  
"Try squawking like a chicken."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"They'll come to investigate," Estella insisted, her mirth twinkling in her eyes, "They'll want to know what a chicken is doing inside the guest quarters of Brandy Hall."  
  
"I'd like to know what I'm doing inside the guest quarters," Merry sighed, "All I wanted to do was bring you breakfast, simple as that . . ."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Don't you think I could have fed myself, if I wanted to? I don't have to be taken care of like a small infant!"  
  
"I have no doubt that you could," Merry said softly, "but . . ."  
  
"No buts!" Estella demanded sharply, "It's bad enough we're stuck in here! I will NOT have you starting arguments, all right?"  
  
"Sounds like you're the one starting arguments," Merry muttered.  
  
Her voice dropped to a hiss, "What did you say?"  
  
He waved a hand dismissively, "Nothing, don't worry about it."  
  
"What RIGHT do you have," Estella's words were nearly shouts, "to SAY such things, and in all TRUTH, you're . . ."  
  
". . . Estella . . .?" Came a muffled voice through the door.  
  
"FATTY!" Both of them exclaimed, tripping over each other's feet in a mad scramble to reach the door.  
  
"Estella?" Fatty asked, sounding bewildered, "What on Earth is taking you so long in there? Mother has had your new room prepared for an hour now."  
  
"Fatty!" Merry shouted breathlessly, "Don't you dare move a muscle! We need your help!"  
  
If anything, Fatty sounded even more bewildered than before, "Merry? What are you doing in my sister's bedroom?"  
  
"Believe me Fatty, It's a long story. It started this morning, when I came down to breakfast . . ."  
  
"SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!" Estella's scream ripped any words from Merry's throat before he could say them. She took a deep breath, and then continued more calmly, "Fatty, the door won't open. Could you be a dear and go fetch an axe?"  
  
"Uh, I guess so Estella. Wait you just a few moments! I'll be back soon!" They could hear him running down the hallway, his footsteps fading away.  
  
"Now," Estella stated, smoothing her skirts, "as long as my dear brother doesn't knock himself out with a coat hanger, we should be out of here in no time."  
  
"Knock himself out with a coat hanger?" Asked Merry, raising an eyebrow in skepticism.  
  
Estella nodded her head, "You'd be surprised what he's capable of accomplishing."  
  
"That's not a very nice thing to say about your brother."  
  
"Oh?" Estella's mouth curved into a small grin, "I could say worse things about you."  
  
Merry's mouth shot open to speak, then he hesitated and said instead, "I should have seen that one coming."  
  
The small grin slowly became a full-out smile, and to Merry's complete astonishment, Estella winked at him. Merry didn't know what to say, so he chose to simply stay silent.  
  
It was only a few minutes before Fatty returned with Merry's father and Odovacar.  
  
"Stand back!" Saradoc warned, before he attacked the door with his axe.  
  
As the first few blows began to fall, Estella turned to Merry and whispered, "To be honest, when I got stuck with you in here, I thought it was going to be terrible. Well, it was still terrible, but not as bad as I thought it would be."  
  
Before Merry could reply, the door caved in and let through a rush of warmth from the hallway, easing his freezing limbs.  
  
"Come on," Odovacar gestured to them quickly, "Let's get you warmed up before your mothers find out."  
  
TBC 


	9. Wagers

MERRY AND PIPPIN CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Well, I suppose I have quite a bit of explaining to do. . . which I don't have time for, and I'm sure you all would rather read this story than listen to all my pathetic excuses. All that matters, is I'M BACK! I told you I'd never give up on a story! Never ever ever! hugs everyone The only thing that saddens me, is that I know there will be some of you who will never check back on this story again. . . and you'll think I broke my promise. :-( sobs

I'm not going to take the time to answer reviews from . . . what . . . almost a year ago? You probably don't even remember what you wrote.

(By the way, if any of you know how to get the little star things I used to use as dividers back, I'd really appreciate it. It seems that has changed things around while I was gone, and I'm a bit lost)

My plan now, to avoid another one of these long awful waits, is this: I will try and stay one chapter ahead all the time, so that if I start to run into another writer's block, I will at least have something already ready to go, so you all aren't waiting in the dark wondering if I am alive. I would have gone ahead and started this plan with this chapter, but I wanted to get it out by Christmas . . . you know, it's a perfect gift for you all, and all that. So I'll start on the next one. So it may take me a bit to get the next one out, but holy hobbit, I will kill myself if it takes this long again! I won't let it happen!

And now, for the first time in longer than I can bear, I can say these words again:

On with the story!

"This is much better," Merry admitted, adjusting the quilt he had huddled inside like a small child. He was most thankful for the warmth the fireplace in the small sitting room emitted. It was very difficult keeping himself from sitting too close to the gently wavering flames, and Fatty, the only other hobbit in the room, was hard pressed to keep him on the chair instead of on the floor mere inches from the fireplace.

Estella was nowhere to be seen, and Merry could only guess where she was at the moment. As soon as her door had been broken open, Estella had gone off sulkily to her new bedroom, despite her father's urgent requests that she go down to get hot tea from the kitchens first. For all Merry knew, she could still be there.

"Well," Fatty said, his voice breaking into Merry's thoughts, "To be honest, I am amazed at how quickly you pulled it off."

"What do you mean?"

The other hobbit shifted uneasily, fiddling aimlessly with a loose thread on the edge of his armchair. "You know what I mean."

Merry raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Actually, I don't."

Fatty paused, as if unsure how to convey his thoughts, "Well . . . you were in my sister's bedroom, and I could only assume. . ."

His mouth dropping open, Merry found that he could not get his tongue to work. Finally, he forced out, "You have the wrong idea entirely!"

"So you haven't succeeded," Fatty said, "I hate to admit it, but I DID tell you Merry. My sister. . ."

"No," Merry cut in firmly with a grin, "I have not succeeded YET. I do plan on succeeding. Quite victoriously as well."

Fatty shook his head sadly. "Whatever you say, Merry. Whatever you say."

Rolling his eyes, Merry fell silent for a moment. He then looked sidelong at his friend and said, "So you all are leaving in the morning?"

"Aye." Fatty nodded slowly. "I believe our fathers are spending this day fixing up the carriage so it can travel better in the snow. There will be nothing keeping us from going tomorrow at first light. My mother is already throwing a fit that she's been gone as long as she has." He let out a quiet laugh, "She claims the maids never know what they're doing."

Joining in laughter with him, Merry smiled. The Bolgers were never a family for much travel. He was lucky he had gotten his chance this time. Quickly reminded of Estella, his laughter grew still. After a deep sigh, he murmured under his breath, "I suppose I don't have much chance of getting anywhere further with Estella before you leave."

Standing, Fatty laid a hand on Merry's shoulder, "I'm going to go do some last minute packing. I'll see you in a bit." He then walked from the room, leaving Merry alone with his thoughts. . .

. . . and thinking is hungry work, as Merry discovered a little while later, as his stomach announced it's desire with a loud grumble. How long had it been since breakfast?

Too long, he decided.

The chill had mostly disappeared from his limbs, so the quilt soon lay unfolded and forgotten on the arm of the chair. As he passed a small round window in the hallway on his way to the kitchens, he peeked out and saw a group of hobbits busily preparing the Bolgers' wagon for their trip home. Merry sighed and continued on his way, his gaze now focused on his feet.

As soon as he had walked by a painting of Rorimac Brandybuck, he began methodically counting his steps. One. . . two . . . three . . . four . . . He had begun the habit of counting how many steps it took to get to the kitchen when he was in his early tweens. A few years after that, he had decided to start his counting at the painting of his grandfather. It was an odd way of honoring his relatives. Then again, "Old Rory" had acquired quite a taste for many of Merry's favorite foods (like strawberries), so counting steps to the kitchen was not completely out of the blue.

Ten . . . eleven. . . twelve . . .

After many years of this exact same procedure, Merry had calculated that it took an average of forty-seven steps to reach the kitchen. Of course, the exact measurement would vary according to his mood. When he was sad, his shuffling stride would drive up the number to as many as fifty-two, whereas when he was excited (or just really hungry) he could bring it as low as thirty-five.

Twenty-two. . . twenty-three . . . twenty-four. . . twenty-five. . .

Watching his own steps, he estimated that today it would lie somewhere near his average.

Twenty-nine. . . thirty. . . thirty-one . . . thirty-two . . .

Perhaps keeping track of steps like this was a waste of time.

Thirty-five . . . thirty-six . . . thirty-seven . . .

Then again, not only did it cheer him up at the prospect of a potential snack, it could also make him look at the bright side of things.

Thirty-nine . . . forty . . . forty-one . . .

Did Estella like strawberries?

Forty-three . . . forty-four . . .

It looked like he was actually going to hit right on his average this time. Merry hoped that luck would be with him again. Last time he hit his average, one of the cute kitchen girls allowed him to sneak off with a delicious pie.

Forty-five . . . forty-six. . .

As Merry counted the final number . . . forty-seven . . . he turned the corner into the kitchen.

His heart leapt at the sight of not one kitchen girl, but THREE who were all smiling gorgeously and apparently had heaped a large pile of various foods upon the table. The smell of fresh baked bread reached Merry's nose, and he almost smiled. But then he realized that it was not he whom they were fawning over.

"Pippin!"

His young cousin was quite a sight. He lounged languorously over three chairs with his curly head resting against the soft body of one of the kitchen maids behind him, while another one popped small fruit into his mouth. The third, trying vainly to hide her jealous glares at the other two, was hastily preparing another dish of food that would certainly be Pippin's greatest delight.

At his older cousin's exclamation, Pippin looked up and grinned, "Finally! Merry, my goodness, I cannot believe you haven't visited the kitchens for the past two days! I must say these gorgeous ladies were feeling the loneliness quite strongly. You should be ashamed of yourself! Then again, you have Estella to consider now and I doubt that she'd accept your invitation after finding you with these much more beautiful lasses." He punctuated his last sentence by reaching up and patting the cheek of the nearest maid. At his touch, she smiled broadly and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Meanwhile, throughout Pippin's quite unexpected appearance and scolding speech, Merry had stood transfixed to the spot, his jaw hanging wide open. Finally, as Pippin paused, Merry leaped at the opportunity to get a word in edgewise, "Pippin, what on earth are you doing in Brandy Hall? When did you get here?"

"Just after you did, and just before the Bolgers," Pippin explained around a mouthful of food, "I came in through the kitchen door to not attract attention."

Merry rolled his eyes. "May I ask why?"

"Well," Pippin said logically, "I wished to check up on your progress."

"Without me knowing, of course."

"Exactly!" Pippin nodded, as he was handed a cloth by one of the girls to clean his mouth and fingers. "However else do you think I could efficiently get an idea of how quickly you were losing the bet?"

"Winning the bet, you mean," said Merry with a smirk.

"Whatever you say," Pippin laughed. "But while we're speaking of the bet, I thought we could clear up a few points."

"Such as?"

"My dear cousin," Pippin smiled and shook his head, "we neglected to make wagers! At this point, we have a conflict of predictions for the potential impending effects of our current circumstances."

Merry raised an eyebrow skeptically, "Where did you look up all that vocabulary?"

"Actually, I took that last sentence from one of my father's letters to a nearby farming community who supplies Great Smials with a lot of its food," Pippin said, hiding a grin, "but that's not the point here. The point is that if either one of us loses the bet, we won't actually be losing anything even though we lost!"

"Well, you can tell which sentences you write and which your father writes. I still can't believe you go through the Thain's mail."

"Merry!" The younger lad pouted. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, yes," Merry chuckled, and sat down in a chair facing Pippin. "What do you propose?"

Shifting out of his recline (much to the sulking displeasure of the lass behind him), Pippin pulled out a small, folded sheet of paper. "I have written here a full description of what must be done by when I win the bet."

Merry leaned back and crossed his arms. This was going to be interesting.

Clearing his throat once . . . twice. . . three times, Pippin held the paper high and stated in an authoritative voice, "In the event that Peregrin Took, son of Paladin, Thain of the Shire, emerges victorious, Meriadoc Brandybuck must open and keep available all areas of Brandy Hall's pantries for the winner, who may require sustenance at any hour of the day, any day of the week. And should Peregrin be found making the most of his situation by one to whom the bet is simply rubbish, Meriadoc must bear the full brunt of any punishment and/or admonishment that may come as a result."

Merry grinned, "I should have known it would be about food."

"But do you accept, Merry?" Pippin folded the paper and swept into his pocket with a flourish. "And if you do, what will your half of the wager be?"

Twiddling his thumb, Merry thought about this for a long moment, his eyes darting about the room as he weighed various outcomes. Then, a tiny look of glee dawned across his face, and he looked up to meet his cousin's eyes. "I accept."

"Good," Pippin giggled, "and your wager?"

As a mischievous smile blossomed, Merry rubbed his hands together, "Since you have seemed to become interested in meddling with my love life. . . perhaps I should meddle in yours."

"You wouldn't . . ."

"In the event that I, Meriadoc Brandybuck, win this bet . . ."

"Merry . . ."

"You must kiss a lass . . ."

"Merry, are you listening to me?"

"Of my choosing."

Pippin's breath caught in his throat. "Your choosing? Merry, you will without a doubt pick the most repulsive lass in all the Shire!"

"Perhaps."

Blinking bemusedly, Pippin let loose a forced shrug. "Well, it doesn't matter anyways," He stammered, "You won't win anyways."

Merry winked at the younger hobbit, "You don't know that for sure."

"B-but . . . it's not like you've got a plan or anything."

"That, my dear cousin, is where you are wrong."

TBC


	10. Trees

Heya everyone! Good thing I didn't take near a year this time. . . glad to see most of you are still reading!

About the whole new plan for writing. . . yeah, throw out that idea hehehe. I'm so anxious to get a chapter out once I finish writing it, I'm afraid I wouldn't have the patience to wait til I have completed another one! :)

By the way, HUGE THANKS to Mint Sauce for her help on this chapter! Could have done it without you! #hugs Minty#

Serena: Yeah, I'm sorry, dear. :/ At least I seem to be back in the swing of it now!

MLynnBloom: Hehe thanks, for your support in my not-so-efficient updating. Sorry, No Pippin in this chapter unfortunately.

Estella Brandybuck: Thanks for the reviews! Means a lot to me. And thanks for coming back to check to see if I came back to life :)

Christina B: Thanks!

Canadian Coco Chick: lol, no, Bets on feelings are never good. Let's go get the popcorn and see how it turns out, eh?

RosieLemondrop: Yay! We're both alive! #dances a jig# Silly missing stars. . . the number signs just don't work right! I can't even use them for page breaks. . .I gotta figure out how to get them back hehe (Oh, and I have some very intricate plans in mind for Pippin's kiss. . . muahahaha)

BedTimeMonster: Thanks a bunch! Glad to see I didn't disappoint! Hopefully I can avoid another long hiatus until this story is finished. :)

Okay, on with the story!

-

Scritch.

Scratch.

Scritch.

Scratch.

Estella threw a pillow angrily at the window, in a vain attempt to muffle the aggravating sounds of the tree branches scratching against the glass. She slumped down for a moment and attempted to ignore it, busying herself instead by counting the number of rosebuds painted on the frame of her bedside table. But it was no use.

Scritch.

Scratch . . .

Stifling a frustrated scream, she picked up a candleholder and almost hurled it at the offending noise – but halted mid-throw. The sounds of her Grandmother cleaning the dinner table only a few rooms down the hall reached her ears. Disgustedly, she let the candleholder fall with a clunk to the floor. She flopped down onto her bed, and traced her angrily convulsing fingers over the seams on the coverlet.

What does one say to a family member they have not seen in several days?

"Oh hello dear, how was your trip? That's good to hear, why don't you come in and warm yourself by the fire? Don't worry your little head, dinner is almost ready!"

Estella sighed raggedly.

"There you are, Estella!" Hetta had screeched, "Get in here this instant young lady! I have no idea what your folks were thinking, letting you gallivant about with them at their dinner parties and whatnot! You probably weren't even fed properly! NOT a word out of you, missie! I see you thinning out already! I'll fix you up a good dinner to thicken you up! Set the table! NOW!"

Estella buried her face in her pillow. She loved her Grandmother. . . most of the time. Sometimes she was just a pain in the neck . . . in the back and head sometimes too. Not twenty-four hours had passed since the Bolgers returned home before they sent Estella back to "Grandmother Hetta's house, for another visit." Permanent visit. Might as well say HER home. Her exile.

Estella closed her eyes wearily, partly from the still annoying sounds of the tree at the window and half from a sudden and nearly painful feeling of loneliness. Her eyes were inexplicably drawn to her small garbage can in the corner of her room.

"Estella," her Grandmother had said through a mouthful of food, "is there something you want to tell me?"

Estella had been picking at her food discontentedly through the whole meal. "Besides the fact that your new dress makes you look fatter than a-"

"Bite your tongue, missie," Hetta had grinned crookedly, "You bought me this dress, remember?"

"Just hush up, Grandmother, and say what you want straight out. No going around the long way this time. I have not the patience today."

"Don't be saucy now, I only wanted to know if you've been seeing a lad."

Estella's fork had dropped from frozen fingers with a clatter. "What!?"

"This letter was delivered for you this morning. . ."

Estella rolled off her bed and inched closer to the garbage can. Her hands twitching tentatively, she reached down inside and pulled out a crumpled envelope. It had not been opened. As soon as Estella had seen the name on the return address, the letter had gone straight into the trash.

Meriadoc Brandybuck.

She stared at it for a long time.

-

Almost every hobbit knew of "Old Gnarly." It was an tree just outside of Frogmorton and right along side the road, where hobbits passing by could stop and look at the strange old being. True to its name, the tree was a twisted, coiled mess of tangled limbs and roots, crawling to not so great a height. The branches splayed out almost parallel to the ground, sagging under the weight of heavy bunches of leaves.

It was no secret that hobbits were not fond of heights, but Old Gnarly was one of the few trees in all of the Shire that small hobbits dared to climb. The limbs were thick and sturdy, and none too high. In fact, a few young lads at one point in time had built a small platform in the lower branches. They had long since abandoned their tree fort, but it was still there, hidden from view of the road by a curtain of leaves. It was the perfect spot for young lads to play make-believe. . . or for a young couple to steal away for a few moments alone.

At the moment however, the fort was occupied by only one person – a hobbit lad, fancied up in one of his better waistcoats and reading a cloth-bound book titled: A Tale of a Dreaming Love. Beside him was a small covered basket that gave wonderful mouth-watering aromas. Every so often, his hand wandered over to the basket, pulled out a strawberry, and slowly took it to his mouth.

Whenever a bird cried out, or the wood of Old Gnarly creaked, his gaze shot from the book and darted around excitedly. When he saw that he was still alone, his expression died and, disappointed, he focused back on the book. And he would eat another strawberry.

Suddenly, a sound reached his ears. It was not the creaking of the old tree, but a clattering and rattling, the bouncing of wood up and down the path. A wagon. Merry slammed the book shut, and ran over to the edge of the platform. Drawing the leaves aside, he peeked out.

He was disheartened by the sight of not the person he was looking for, but an entire family crammed into a small farm wagon with a bit of luggage. It was part of the Grubb family, most likely off to visit some relatives in Frogmorton. Merry had met them before when he and Pippin went off questing for the ladies, and had found the Grubb family to be sadly lacking. It was true that there was a young lass in this particular group named Hilda Grubb, who was about Merry's age. At the moment, she sat like a lump in the back of the wagon, her chubby finger contentedly exploring her cavernous nostril. Merry shuddered and drew back into the safety of the fort.

Popping another strawberry into his mouth, he listened to the wagon as it bounced and clattered away. He sighed, and picked up the book again, losing himself in the melodramatic speech of the two lovebirds described . . .

"'Oh Lily, your eyes are beautiful pools of blue! I am lost in my love for you, my dear!'

'Oh Mardo. . .'"

Not too bad, that. Merry pulled out some paper and wrote down the line. He'd have to change blue to brown somehow. Beautiful pools of brown? No, that didn't sound right. Her eyes were lovely, but he didn't want to sound like he was describing mud. He'd have to work on it.

"'I pour out my heart to you, love of my life! My life would not be complete without you!'

'Oh Mardo. . .'

'And now I shall ask if you, fair flower, will make my life complete. Will you marry me?'"

"Merry?"

Merry jerked forward, dropping the book. He spun around to see two lovely brown eyes peering through a gap in the leaves.

"Estella?"

TBC


	11. Pranks

If you are still here reading this, you are my eternal friend. I am unworthy! #falls to her knees# And still using number signs instead of the little stars apparently. And forgive me for having to use numbers to separate story sections. . . I'm not sure how wants me to do that now that everything else does not show up.

As I promised, I am still slowly but surely chugging away at this story. It's only about three fourths of the way done, so there's still awhile to go yet. And I haven't figured out the next chapter at all yet . . . ah well. I'll get it up eventually.

I have also fallen behind in reading y'all's fics! It's simply too much work now to sift through them all (yeah, I'm lazy). If you want me to read a story of yours, drop a line in a review and I'll go check it out!

I assume none of you remember what you wrote in your last reviews, so I won't bother answering them here. On with the story then!

1

"Estella!" Merry scrambled to his feet, "I… what… you… you're here!"

The poor lass did not respond, but only stood there blinking her eyes evenly. She would not meet his gaze. The silence was so thick that Merry almost jumped when she murmured, "This is where you said to meet, right? I find it highly unlikely that I would misinterpret simple instructions and yet still find myself face to face with the one that gave the directions in the first place. Unless of course, you're the never-heard-of identical twin of Meriadoc Brandybuck."

Merry reached for her hand, but found it snatched away. Shrugging off the awkward moment, he grinned and said, "The only one dark and mysterious enough to elude the gossip of the Shire is you, my dear lass."

She did not dignify that with a response, but hesitated in the curtain of leaves for a moment before drawing a deep breath. "Are you going to invite me into your little hideout, or must I stand here and endure the pollen falling into my eyes?"

"Oh! Certainly!" Merry reached out and bent back a branch to clear the way for her. "I'm glad to hear a smart remark from you. For a brief second there, you looked so comely and cute I was afraid I had welcomed the wrong girl."

"Lucky for you if you had." She sat down in a corner, her back to a wall of thick bark. When she looked up, a basket was thrust in front her. Raising an eyebrow, she glanced at Merry who was now reclining beside her.

"Strawberries. Go ahead, take some."

"Oh… thanks." She reached inside, felt around, and then took a second look. "It's empty."

"No it's not," declared Merry, grabbing the basket back, "It was full this morning!" He held it upside-down, shaking it ruthlessly. Nothing fell out. "A silly squirrel or something must have gotten inside! I don't understand where they went!" Suddenly, he felt fingers on his cheek. He stopped cold. Was Estella stroking his cheek? Turning his head slowly, he caught sight of a smile on her face. "My dear Estella!" He asked, wide-eyed, "Are you… doing what I think you are?"

"No, I'm investigating the red juice smeared all over your face. You gluttonous pig." She laughed. It was a bit harsh and throaty, and not at all like the delicate giggles of most lasses. But something in her laugh sang in Merry's ears, and he abruptly felt his chest swell with merriment.

1

"Come on Ponto," the lad whispered, gesturing wildly. "There are some in there! I can hear them!"

"Would you wait up?" Ponto stumbled to a stop and placed a hand against a small tree for support. "Not all of us are fit as young rabbits you know."

"Well if you would get outside a bit more, maybe you wouldn't get tired so quick, lazy layabout." Rowan ruffled the younger lad's hair. "Did you bring it?"

"Yeah, it's in here." Ponto reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. "Have you figured which side they're on yet?"

"Nope, haven't gotten a chance to get close yet." Rowan patted his shoulder. "Wait here, I'll be back in a moment." He prowled off, inching closer and closer to an ancient tree on the hill on the opposite side of the road –Old Gnarly. He waited underneath silently for a moment and then scurried back to their base of operations. "They're on the far side of the fort."

"That means we can use the squiggly branch to climb to the top!" Ponto clapped his hands excitedly. "That's the only one I've never skinned my knee on!"

"Not so loud," scolded Rowan, "they might hear you, and if they run off our fun is spoilt."

"Sorry, Rowan. I'll try to be quieter."

"Good lad," he smiled. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be!" Ponto declared, his face lighting up with glee.

A muted croak echoed inside the box.

1

"'And then the sun settled beneath the gentle mist of night, casting the final glow of warmth for the day on the avenue where the lovers walked. Um… A gentle wind blew, scattering clouds of baby rose petals to flutter across the path before their feet…' Merry, this stuff is horrid!" Estella shoved the offensive book away from her. "Why on earth are you reading this?"

"It's not as bad as it first seems, you know," Merry picked it up and closed it away in the empty basket. "It's not my fault you were curious about my reading material."

"Curious, yes!" Blowing a loose strand of hair from her eyes, she muttered, "I thought you might have at least been reading something interesting."

"Did you even see the title? What were you expecting from a book titled, A Tale of a Dreaming Love? A chronicled interview with a local pig farmer?"

"Ugh, I don't know, but no wonder you're so sappy all the time, with rubbish like this influencing you!"

"Did it ever occur to you, my dear, that perhaps I was reading it to refine my gentlemanly manners?" Merry did an overly flourished bow – rather clumsily, as he was still on his knees – and planted a kiss on her hand.

Extricating herself from his grasp, Estella took a corner of the basket cloth to wipe the back of her hand. "You call throwing rocks at lasses' windows and giving slobbery kisses gentlemanly?"

"I can tell you're quite smitten my dear," he winked.

Estella shot him an acidic glare, but could tell in a moment that it was only encouraging him. She was about to add vocalization to her disgust, when she saw something small and green fall from the limbs above and land right on top of Merry's curly head. He stiffened, and got a strange look in his eye.

"Estella," he ventured, "what was that?" She mutely shook her head. Reaching up, he tentatively grabbed hold of the creature and brought it down so he could see it. A smile spread across his face. It was a large toad, its throat pulsating and its bulbous eyes staring back into Merry's. He set it down on and watched as it hopped away. "Oldest trick in the book, that one."

1

Rowan stood at the bottom of the trunk, looking up and carefully scanning the branches of the fort. Ponto had been up there several minutes now… why wasn't anyone screaming yet?

He grabbed a low-lying branch and was about to haul himself up after his little friend, when the sound of a muffled squeak stopped him. Ah, now that was more like it! Grinning, he waited for the chaos that was sure to follow; but the voice that shouted next was not what he had been expecting.

"RUN ROWAN!"

Ponto? He scrambled away from the trunk. Lucky he did, for right where he had just been standing landed the meanest-looking lass he had ever seen, her curls flying and eyes blazing. Then Rowan did something that he would ever after be ashamed of.

He screamed.

Not just a little shout or a strangled yell, but a full-fledged, shrill, high-pitched screech that probably echoed from Hobbiton to Tookland. He took off on a scampering run, but didn't get very far before he was tackled from behind.

"No!" blubbered Rowan, as he was dragged up by the back of his shirt, "It wasn't my idea! He coerced me to help him! Please don't whip me, lady!" His whimpering became a yelp as she tugged cruelly on his ear.

"Be a good little lad and quit sniveling," she hissed, "I'm not going to whip you, although I ought to!"

Still pulling him along by the back of his shirt, she hauled him up into the tree fort and dumped him into the corner where Ponto was already sitting, tense and trembling with drops of nervous sweat trickling down his face.

"Ponto," he said tentatively, "What happened? Did you…"

"Quiet," the lass demanded. "There is someone who would like to have a word with you." With that, she retreated back to the opposite corner and commenced glowering from afar.

It was then that Rowan noticed she was not alone. Of course! He and Ponto were going to terrorize a flirting couple! Sure enough, the other member of the pair was sitting over in the corner. He was a robust-looking lad, with a generous mop of curls and twinkling eyes. He didn't look half as bad as the lass… maybe he would go easy on them. Then he stood up slowly, and Rowan blinked. He was really tall!

The lad came over to their corner and knelt in front of them. Without seeming to notice their shrinking away, he stared hard at them and said, "Well, what have you to say for yourselves?"

Ponto squirmed nervously and Rowan dodged the stare, but neither said anything.

"You know," he continued, "you're lucky I told young Miss Bolger to go easy on you. She can be a bit rough sometimes." A grin at the lass in the corner accompanied this. She responded with a sniff and tossed her head like a wild horse. The lad chuckled and turned back to the boys, extending his hand. "My name's Merry. What are you two called?"

Rowan examined the open hand for a second, decided it was safe enough, and took it slowly. "I'm Rowan. He's Ponto."

"Nice to meet you lads," Merry said. "So, do you have any other hobbies besides dropping toads on poor folks' heads?" The boys blushed, expecting quite a scolding. They were surprised when Merry simply laughed. "You almost got away with it too! Although, next time I suggest that you come in on the South side. That way, the trunk will shield you from the road, and the branches over there are arrayed for a quicker departure."

"Merry!" The lass exploded, "The boys should not be encouraged!"

"What, I was just helping them to refine their trade." He mumbled, stopping when he saw the look in her eye. She made a gesture, and after a short hesitation, Merry backed away. She walked over to the flinching boys and knelt before them.

Looking them in the eye, she said, "Now I hope you two have learned your lesson. It is not polite to be dropping toads on folks' heads. Each of you go tell your mother that you have been very naughty and submit to whatever punishment she deems necessary. I trust that I will not need to further that punishment in the future?"

Both lads shook their heads.

She smiled crookedly. "You both have the look to become a fine gentlehobbit someday. Don't change that impression for me." She gave Merry a quick glance. He nodded. She grabbed Rowan and Ponto both by the arm and hauled them to their feet. "Now be off with you lads! Before I change my mind!"

1

Estella stood with Merry, watching as the two small hobbits scrambled away down the road. He turned to smile at her. "I think you gave them a fright, my dear."

"Hmph," Estella snorted, "No more than they deserve, pulling a stunt like that."

"Nevertheless, I was surprised by the way you handled them." Merry grinned, "Neither one is damaged, maimed, or emotionally scarred."

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Don't be foolish." She went back in, gathering their belongings into the picnic basket. She reached out to grab that blasted book, and was startled to find Merry's hand at the other end. She looked up into his eyes.

"Estella," he said softly, "did it completely pass you by that the boys pulled that prank on us because they saw us as a flirting couple?"

She tugged the book free from his grasp and tucked it into the basket. "Misinterpretation on their part."

"Is that what you really think?" Merry's quiet voice slowed her movements, but she said nothing. She did not stir until she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

TBC


End file.
